


‘Round Midnight

by xCaraLena



Series: Undercover Files [1]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Crossdressing, Dancing, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Makeouts, Undercover AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-20 13:31:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16556705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xCaraLena/pseuds/xCaraLena
Summary: An assignment. That’s what they’d called it. Megure and the like had raged criminals and justice and the need for his unrelenting intelligent deductive prowess, but now that he was here—like this—he was having a hard time believing it.The heels weren’t helping either.





	‘Round Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Right so here’s this. Got the idea because I was listening to some jazz and Blue Bossa (New York Bar Quartett) came on but honestly I don’t even know anymore. The song pops up later in the fic so if you want immersion there’s that. Also this has some innuendoey things in it? but we never get past making out...
> 
> Fic title is from another jazz standard, but honestly I just needed a title so no correlation.
> 
> Anyways, hopefully you guys enjoy~

“I hate you for this.”

He dropped his hand from his ear and sighed. Although the man on the other end only laughed, he probably hadn’t put enough heat in it... well that, or his voice was currently a few pitches too high and that of a woman’s.

An assignment. That’s what they’d called it. Megure and the like had raged _criminals_ and _justice_ and the need for his unrelenting intelligent deductive prowess, but now that he was here—like _this_ —he was having a hard time believing it.

His heels clacked on the ground of the huge ballroom—an overpriced banquet for some rich, sketchy art collector—and Shinichi could have sworn he was making more noise than the snare drum as he passed the live band. They were playing smooth jazz, under dimmed lights, with few people dancing. It would’ve been nice in any other environnement, and if half the people attending the thing weren’t as crooked as they clearly were, but it seems his luck had run out.

Starting with the dress.

“ _Oi come on, ya look pretty Kudou! Lighten up, I’m right behind ya._ ” Came the smirking reply, and he felt a sudden strong urge to murder the Osakan sneaking past him in full waiter getup.

Of course he didn’t, but he did give him one hell of a glare.

His assignment had been given to him less than a week ago, with Megure practically begging him to take it on, and without him even knowing the half of it. Hattori had been the one to jot his name down as a potential candidate, and that alone should have set off a couple thousand alarms in Shinichi’s mind had he known, but seeing as he was here, he clearly _hadn’t_ known. Also knowing Hattori, he was most likely the _only_ potential candidate.

Shinichi frowned.

They had female officers didn’t they? Why’d they have to assume that just because they’d forced this on him before meant he’d willingly want to do it again. Plus he wasn’t that easy was he? Surely with this one they could have worked around...

“ _And don’t go regretting your decisions now. Ya wanted to get this guy just as much as we did,_ ” the stupid voice in his ear informed him. He grunted in reply.

Shinichi moved stealthily through the crowds, watching each step he took, and adding a certain amount of silent grace to his movements. Although, it was kind of hard not to stand out when that was his main objective.

Right, because his actual assignment—and without the extra four paragraphs Megure had handed him—was to seduce some big shot, unofficial yakuza boss into revealing information.

Yes, he. A _male_. Was to seduce another male—who, mind you, was very interested in the _opposite_ gender—into revealing secrets. Although apparently, and aside from the whole opposite gender thing, he was just the man’s type.

Thus leading to his current getup.

“Maybe if you had any other friends where we work, you would have referred an actual girl to do this job and not your _male best friend_ ,” he gritted out, making sure to move his lips as minimally as possible.

“ _And ya do_?” The Osakan laughed, but Shinichi only glared at the ground harder.

“Itsumi-san, Kumiko-san, hell even Sato could’ve played this part better than me.” Did Hattori really take that much pleasure in stuffing him in a closet, just to throw heels in his face and wish him well?

A mumble from the other side had him smirking. “ _Alright point, but ya’re here now aren’t ya? And Sato’s, what, married now? I’m not sure even asking would’ve left anyone with all teeth intact._ ” He didn’t reply, choosing instead to smooth down the hem of the fabric that currently enveloped him.

At least the dress was comfortable. It felt like silk roaming across his body, dark blue covering almost everything with its long ruffles. Showing just enough skin to maintain his apparent _femininity_ with the long, airy sleeves having little slits atop them, and a long dip in the back of the dress. He’d still had to shave for this and wasn’t the happiest about it, but it didn’t hurt to be a perfectionist. (Plus his mom had somehow found out).

Shinichi clutched at his oversparkly watch—a downsize from his regular one, but he also had a gun just in case—and fiddled with the long clip ons he was wearing. His hair had the proper amount of added extensions, and was loose with an added updo in the back—courtesy of Ran (who was also never going to let him live this down)—but aside from the makeup, even the bra he was currently wearing wasn’t all that bad.

He was still mad though. Mad as in—going to Osaka on a later date just to lock Hattori in a closet with only a dress as clothes and have him walk half a block to his house—mad, now with pictures. Getting a few too many addressing looks from the crowd wasn’t necessarily something he always enjoyed, especially when he wasn’t appearing as his actual gender, but he played his part.

Maybe a little too well.

“ _Kudou ya still okay over there?_ ” he heard, and the detective refrained from touching his ear, instead lightly humming.

Shinichi sat down on one of the smaller lounge chairs the hall had to offer, and made a move to discreetly look to his left. A guy from across the hall was clearly eyeing him, not maliciously, no, but not in any way that screamed friendly either. It was predatory.

He made a move to get up.

He’d go to the bar—at least until Hattori found the guy—and make his best attempt at avoiding everything the banquet had to offer. Seeing as right now he’d much rather be lying down, alone in his home reading, he thought that was an acceptable option. Instead he opted to sit, as the situation called for, because he was without a bed in his home, and his feet were still slowly dying, so.

“I’m at the bar, let me know when you find him,” he said discreetly, watching as the bartender made his drink.

Hattori replied with a sparse, “ _aye, aye,_ ” and he more felt than heard the buzzing of what was most likely the western detective dropping his tray full of mini quiches.

Sighing into his virgin Margarita, Shinichi fiddled with the straw until the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

It was the guy again. The same one dressed in the silver suit, with the black button down, messy brown hair... Well, it could’ve been worse. He could’ve been wearing a floral suit like nearly every other guy at this specific banquet (because apparently those were a yakuza favorite), but silver suited him much better.

This guy though... he wasn’t directly staring, but it was still enough to garner Shinichi’s attention. If he’d been anyone else he probably wouldn’t have realized, but with the whole black org. situation, he couldn’t be considered just anybody.

He swished his drink around again, stirring it absentmindedly with the straw as he listened to the music elevating the hall. They were mostly playing slow songs, ballads and the like, but bossa wasn’t unheard of. The musicians were pretty good themselves too...

He startled when a hand landed on his shoulder. He hadn’t been off guard, but he hadn’t been expecting such a forward approach by anyone either.

A man dressed to the nines—expensive shining fabric, gold chains, rings, and bracelets—with maybe a too wide smile greeted him, and he smiled shyly.

“ _Seems you did my job for me,_ ” Hattori lowly laughed. Shinichi didn’t so much as blink.

“Pardon me, I couldn’t help but realize such a fine woman was sitting alone tonight,” the guy—Yamamoto Hideshi, his mind supplied—commented, and Shinichi resisted the urge to blow his cover then and there to reply with _isn’t that what you’d like to think?_

He shoved the thought back in the depths of his mind to laugh about later while contemplating how much he was already starting to dread this. The guy reeked of musky cologne and all too gelled (definitely dyed) blond hair. Albeit looking nothing over the age of twenty five, his eyes were dark and his cheeks were too hollow. He looked cold.

The man sat down in the chair beside him. “Do you mind if I join you?”

Shinichi ignored the fact that he’d already sat down, but smiled nonetheless. “Not at all,” he extended his hand, “Kuroi Shinako, a pleasure mister...?”

“Yamamoto—Yamamoto Hideshi. And the pleasures all mine, Kuroi-san.” Brushing a chaste kiss across the front of his knuckles, Yamamoto flagged the bartender down and ordered a fancy drink of his own.

“ _Remember, we’re talking drugs, multiple accounts of homicide, and counterfeit. We need a hotel number and enough time to get in then out with no one the wiser._ ” Hattori reminded him, but he already knew that. It was unfortunate enough that he had to flirt with said guy too.

Shinichi had just enough time to catch the glimpse of a silver suit sitting on a nearby stool, before his eyes turned on Yamamoto.

“You said I came here alone. What makes you so sure that I don’t have a man waiting for me elsewhere?” he purred, and the words left him as far more seductive than he’d intended. The woman’s voice wasn’t helping but it seems Yamamoto bought it, because his cheeks darkened and his smile widened.

“Well, he’d have made a mistake leaving a woman as beautiful as you all alone.” _So much for just his type_ , Shinichi hummed and swished his glass around. Forcing his lips to tug upwards into something suductive (although the guy was pretty easy).

“I take it you’re staying nearby then?” he started, and Yamamoto quirked a brow. “The view from the top of Beika hotel is quite wonderful wouldn’t you agree?”

He shifted slightly and took a sip from his drink. Shinichi cursed.

“Unfortunately, my hotel is a little farther,” his eyes narrowed and his lips smiled as he lightly tapped his fingers against the glass—ice shaking, “...although the Ferrari I used to get here isn’t all too far.”

The detective nearly— _nearly_ —did a double take. If that wasn’t a request for car sex, Shinichi didn’t know what was. He quirked his lips, this time from around his glass.

“And if I prefer the bed?” This was already getting too disgusting for his tastes, but he was hoping he could convince the guy from looks alone.

“Then I’m sure it’ll get us there,” he took a sip from his drink, “...eventually.”

The detective was all too close to finding the nearest wine bottle to pour on this guy’s head when the com buzzed in his ear.

“ _Our informant just gave us a name, try The Palizian. If that’s the one, we just need confirmation._ ”

Shinichi inwardly prayed. “Oh, I hope this is The Palizian we’re talking about. I’ve always wanted to visit the suites there.” Yamamoto’s eyes widened slightly, and Shinichi realized he’d hit too close to home. Instead he opted to add, “Apparently the beds are much larger, known for withstanding... time consuming activities.”

He heard Hattori choke on air, and nonchalantly brushed his hair to the side of his face. Yamamoto smirked, and his previous suspicions were dismissed. “Lucky guess I suppose, because,” he dangled the keycard in front of Shinichi, who quickly took note of the room number, “That’s exactly what I have. What say we get out of here then?”

And now was Shinichi’s turn to inwardly panic a little. He quickly smiled as naturally as possible, before giggling just for added effect. “If you’d allow me to freshen up just before we depart? I’ll meet you outside?”

“Of course,” Shinichi nearly ran for the bathroom but a hand grabbed his wrist. “Although don’t take too long,” Yamamoto whispered, “The suite has showers as well, if you need...”

Shinichi opted for a sexy smirk over his shoulder and gently shook the hand off, briskly walking away in the direction of the bathroom.

So much for difficult, he thought.

Touching a hand to his ear once he was safely inside a stall, Shinichi smirked. “I got it,” he said, hearing nothing but mumbling and patiently waited for his go ahead. Hattori gave him the signal, and he cleared his throat. “Room 424, Palizian, he’s waiting outside, should be beside a Ferrari.”

“ _Alright we got em’, your job’s done here Kudou. Good work._ ” Shinichi sighed in relief.

He took his time exiting the stall, quickly checking his appearance and giving the mirror a quick smirk. Now he thinks he understands how _he_ felt doing this. Laughing slightly, he twisted a curl under his fingers and clacked his heels comically on the ground as he walked out.

He turned to exit the bathroom, and entered back into the dimmed hall, but was instead met with a crowd of people. The dance floor had picked up, and he was having trouble maneuvering back to the bar. An arm around his shoulder brought him back to awareness, although he was pretty sure he knew who it was.

“Come to comment on the dress again, Hattori?” He turned to his side but startled upon seeing a silver suit and deep indigo eyes. Everything focused on him, eyebrow perfectly quirked, and a smirk that made his stomach sink.

“I’m not sure about this Hattori person, but I’d definitely comment if you’d allow me.” His voice was smooth, and with a low timbre that did _things_ to Shinichi. Nothing like his previous, uh, admirer. Something in his smirk screamed challenge too, and Shinichi couldn’t help but match it. He normally would’ve struggled free by now but...

Fuck it. The guy was really hot, and his arm was _firm_.

He relaxed his shoulders, and the guy smiled. “Oh yah? And what would you add as comment then?” he asked, all too amused, but the guy didn’t laugh. Instead his grip shifted lower, and Shinichi allowed him to control their walking pattern.

“That whoever chose it, because clearly you didn’t, realized that it matched your eyes. A great choice if I may add, while you also seem quite comfortable in it... yet you normally don’t wear dresses, do you?”

The detective hummed, but let nothing on. This guy was good, just as he’d expected, and everything about him was screaming careful confidence. Shinichi dropped his com in a passing champagne glass.

He maneuvered them past the bustling crowds and back towards the bar. Shinichi briefly wondered if he was a detective himself, but dismissed the thought. He had more of a mischievous kind of flare to his smile—still tugging gracefully at the corner of his full, flush lips. His smile was contagious— _intoxicating_.

“Hmm, interesting. You sure know a lot about me for somebody who doesn’t even know my name.” The man stopped suddenly—just about to the bar—with his arm dropping from where it was to instead bring a hand to his chin.

“Maybe... but that just means I’m the greater mystery here. Wouldn’t you say, Miss?” His dark, indigo eyes gleamed as he smirked, dropping the hand from his chin and opting to gesture freely towards the air.

His fingers were calloused, and the detective was impressed to admit that was all he’d realized on the man’s identity thus far. Shinichi took the time to eye him up close.

His suit was classy, and stood out but still remained invisible to those not looking. He was in his twenties, around Shinichi’s age, and his reason for attending the event still remained a mystery. The detective raised a brow.

“I suppose it does,” he mused, lightly biting his lip. He tasted lip gloss but thought nothing of it as he watched indigo darken even more.

His fingers absentmindedly twirled in his fake hair, and Shinichi briefly wondered what he was still doing here. Sure, it was pretty obvious he’d love to entertain himself with this man further, but his priority was supposed to be getting out of this place, joining the team in wrapping up the Yamamoto case, and then sitting at home with a book in hand and a fresh cup of coffee. He looked away from the capturing eyes—reluctance slowing the movement.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where the nearest exit is, would you?” he said, discreetly shaking the hand off his back and edging closer towards the large double doors separating him and freedom. The man frowned.

“Oh and what happened to Flowersuit-san?” he questioned, as if he’d been recapping an especially unfortunate change in the weather lately. “I was sure he had an in, what with his offer for Ferrari sex and what not,” he waved a hand nonchalantly and Shinichi laughed, forfeiting his previous thought. “Hey, he nearly had _me_ for a second there.”

“Seriously, you heard that? I was pretty sure the number of escape routes in my head doubled on that comment alone...” Shinichi hadn’t realized it, but the guy had somehow moved his hand around his waist without him realizing. Interesting.

“Let me guess, all were ditched the moment you realized his whole getup was basically screaming yakuza,” Shinichi laughed again, and the man’s smirk climbed. “Seems we both had the same ideas then.”

“Oh? And what’s a none yakuza member like yourself, doing at a party filled with them?”

The man huffed, but his gaze locked onto Shinichi’s causing the detective’s breath to hitch unsoundly.

“I could ask you the same question, _Miss_.” His voice slowed, rolling the name off like it was foreign but meant to be, the low purr echoing.

Shinichi hummed, and smirked in reply, spending a few extra moments just watching the man’s eyes swirl—perfect indigo against tanned skin, and a bright toothed grin...

Shinichi suddenly wished he wasn’t dressed as a woman, because he wouldn’t mind going home with him tonight. Even knowing next to nothing about the guy, something was attracting him beyond logic. The mystery, the familiar glint in those all too capturing eyes. His heart was beating faster with each second of silence.

The detective licked his glossed lips.

The song changed. Blue Bossa, fast paced, and the man’s grin grew.

“Care to join me for this dance, Miss?”

Even before Shinichi could muster an actual reply, he was being tugged to the dance floor and brought flush against the man’s body. His fake breasts squishing against him, and Shinichi couldn’t hold back his slight flush. He smirked all the while—it was more like a challenge then anything, and Shinichi wouldn’t disappoint.

The silver suit gleamed as the man stepped even closer, hot air now breathing onto Shinichi’s ear, and he couldn’t find it in himself to complain. “Just follow my lead.”

And he did. Until they were swaying perfectly to fast paced piano, the saxophone dragging them along all the while, yet it was the man who drove their rythym. Every step he took had Shinichi’s body swaying the other way, and he couldn’t deny enjoying the added dips here and there.

“Is this your way of showing you’re more than just a pretty face?” Shinichi asked, as the man grasped his hand in a fast paced waltz. He smirked.

“I’m afraid it would take a lot more than just a simple dance to show you all of what I have to offer, Miss.” The implications of such were what made Shinichi blush, and he felt his arms easing even more from where they were wrapped around his body.

The moments, such like this, where he’d tip him back and the detective would catch swaying brown hair, and a look so intense, and so focused on him, he felt like he was being seen through to every extent. The man swung him back around and extended their arms until they were forced to come back together pressing into one another, heaving breaths on each other, and smelling the salt on each other’s skin.

“You’re pretty good at this,” Shinichi whispered, albeit his mind was going numb. He was being forced to indulge in the sweet adrenaline of the dance, and he couldn’t find it in himself to care when he was still being looked at like that.

The man licked his lips, and Shinichi followed the movement with half lidded eyes. “I’m pretty good at a lot of things, Miss.”

Shinichi would have scoffed, yet suddenly a silver arm pulled them back to the side just as the piano began its solo. Feet following in what looked liked a choreographed routine, his steps were too fast and too precise, but Shinichi knew this man was no dancer. He was on an entire different level.

A crowd was forming around them, and suddenly the man was dragging them back towards the left—hands hanging onto each other’s in a shimmy that had the man grinning, and Shinichi moving his feet faster.

The man circled back behind him and fit their bodies together as they shimmied back and forth—Shinichi leaning heavily on him and using the time to catch his breath—he leaned in closer. “I’m going to lift you up now.”

Shinichi smirked. “Okay,” and let his breath leave him in pants.

Suddenly the detective had his hands locked around biceps once again and was being brought into the air. He heard immense cheering from the crowd even as he swung around the man’s body in what seemed like one fluid motion. He landed on one heel in a spin and felt his hair ruffle down, and his dress follow the movement—entrapping his body as it swished around him.

He fell back but was caught in familiar arms, and even more familiar eyes as the song ended and the crowd cheered. Breaths reaching each other’s ears in pants, the man’s eyes were sparkling with lust and Shinichi felt too much of the same. He had the sudden urge to get closer, and just taste what he saw, but a raging call from across the floor had him startling to alertness.

Shinichi froze.

An unfortunate amount of gold chains and rings had the detective barely resisting the urge to facepalm. He should have taken care of this guy way sooner.

“What the hell is this?! You made me wait outside for twenty minutes and this is where you’ve been?” The crowd basically parted for him, and the detective’s hand itched for his watch when he saw cold, flaring eyes, “Wrapped around some nobody in a silver suit? God, to think I went after some sleezy prostitute...” Shinichi felt himself being pushed back and almost scoffed. He was being shielded, even though he was the one in current possession of a gun.

He probably should have just gone home.

The man stepped past him, laughing all the while, and Shinichi’s eyes widened a tad. “Now, now, no need to cause a scene, hm? I’m sure this is all just some misunderstanding,” he addressed publically, gesturing his hands and smiling just enough for the crowd to begin unraveling itself. His steps led him in front of the fuming Yakuza, and he landed a hand down on Yamamoto’s shoulder.

He whispered something in his ear but Shinichi couldn’t hear it—couldn’t see his lips at all either—although, he could tell it wasn’t quite what the other wanted to hear. His eyes went wide.

“The hell she’s yours! She wasted my time and humiliated me for some bastard like you, and now you expect me to walk away?”

The playful grin dropped from the man’s face and Shinichi kept his expression neutral. One wrong move and anything could happen. Yamamoto wasn’t without friends at a party like this, after all.

“The gentlemanly thing would be to walk away,” he said, darkly, but Yamamoto had no interest in the man’s expressions right now. His laugh walked right over it.

“And stealing another man’s bitch is gentlemanly?” he smirked, eyeing Shinichi with a look that made him want to throw up. “More like thievery if you ask me.”

The crowd around them shuffled, and Shinichi felt himself take a step closer towards the fuming Yakuza. The man unnoticeably pushed him back.

“So if I’m a thief what does that make you?” he paused, smiling poisonously up at a frozen Yamamoto. His lips were drawn into a thin line and Shinichi watched as Yamamoto swallowed, long and hard. There was no hiding the shivering authority hanging off his tongue as he finished, “A murderer?”

And finally the hall went dead silent—the music had already stopped quite some time ago—while the Yakuza’s eyes went wide.

Yamamoto immediately reached for his pocket and Shinichi did the same, but before he could even grab at the weapon stashed there, the man had him pinned to the ground in an explosion of smoke and shrills from the crowd. Suddenly he was being pulled up by a hand all too familiar by now, and dragged out from the hectic crowd.

He looked back to see a flailing Yamamoto, waving what looked to be a disassembled gun through smoke that seemed to be covering the entirety of the floor.

They rushed through the hall’s many exits and the man maneuvered them swiftly through the rights and lefts of the building before coming to a halt around a dim corridor. He took the time to reverse his suit jacket—revealing a black tux blazer—and smooth back his hair, all the while pulling a bow tie out of thin air and tieing it effortlessly around his neck.

Shinichi stared in shock.

“Who are you?” he asked, ripping off the voice changer and almost sighing as he heard his own voice. Although, lips pulled thin and completely serious, he hadn’t many doubts running through his mind.

“I think we both know the answer to that question—”

Shinichi jumped back and had his gun out from his holster in no time at all. The man did the same but with a gun much more peculiar, and pointed directly at the detective’s head.

Shinichi was kneeling, brows furrowed in concentration, while the white toothed smile grinned down on him. “You look very pretty tonight, meitantei,” he said slowly, tone carefully controlled and airily annoying.

“Shut up.” He stilled his body and felt himself break a sweat. _Why the hell was he...?_ “Why are you here,” he asked finally, emotionless and determined. The thief laughed.

“I don’t know, detective, why does anyone choose to attend such high end banquets I wonder?” Shinichi felt his teeth grate together.

“You said so yourself, these people are yakuza, that man back there was a murderer. So I’ll ask again, what business do you have here?” His finger was itching towards the trigger of his watch, but the gun weighed heavy in his hand.

The thief stayed silent and Shinichi watched his lips curl into an easy smirk. He repressed his sudden thoughts in favour of his current target, if this guy was here...

“Is it a jewel?” he asked, almost eagerly, and sighed when his response was nothing but a hum. He moved his gun higher and the thief didn’t so much as flinch. Shinichi narrowed his eyes. “What are you after, KID?”

A long pause and the magician suddenly lowered his card gun, grinning a soft smile as he backed away with his hands in the air. His card gun disappearing with a twist of his fingers.

“Perhaps I’m after what is already right in front of me,” he mused, and for a second Shinichi felt his eyes twitch back to the indigo that had captured him all too soon earlier. Not to mention, every moonlit night before then.

So that’s where he’d seen them before.

KID laughed. “It’s only right for a thief to want to steal more than just jewels, don’t you agree, meitantei?”

And in a sudden step the thief had him whisked to his feet with his gun dismantled on the floor, and his watch turned backwards on his wrist. His arms were pinning the detective to the wall, and the only thing in Shinichi’s vision were his eyes, his lips, his skin, and everything about the thief that had him mesmerized.

He wet his lips and Shinichi followed the movements, barely resisting in his struggle against unmoving arms. “You understand now what I’m after, correct?”

Shinichi’s throat was going dry and tight and his mind rushed back to the earlier events of the night, the thief’s arms lifting him, twirling him, holding him, touching him...

He wanted more of that and better yet, he was right there.

“I know you felt it too detective, I could see it in your eyes,” he paused and moved closer to Shinichi’s ear, breath tickling the nerves against his neck. “As I do now.”

His breath hitched against his will, but in all honesty he was never really the most law abiding citizen despite being a detective. If his time as Conan proved anything to say the least.

“All you have to do is say it.”

Shinichi scoffed and relaxed his arms. “You could have told me who you were,” he protested, avoiding the thief’s eyes and staring intently at his left arm.

KID brought his other hand to pull the detective’s chin, a light push that had Shinichi meeting his eyes once again. “You’re avoiding the question, meitantei.”

Shinichi went to pull his head away but the thief’s grip held strong. He rolled his eyes. “And what question was that, KID?”

The thief leaned in and moved his lips to capture chapped skin, and smooth, soft... he opened his eyes in a light scowl.

“What? Did you think I’d actually let you kiss me?” the detective said, pushing his hand away from where it’d sneakily gone between his lips and KID’s. He would have laughed at the thief’s face had he not plastered on a smirk all too sudden.

His eyes were much too focused as he laughed out, “No, I suppose I shouldn’t have...” he took a step back and Shinichi straightened his dress, smoothing the fabric down from where KID had had him pushed up— “but I know you won’t stop me if I do this.”

He was back in front of him with the quickest of movements and suddenly Shinichi was falling forcefully into familiar biceps without any means of escape. He had a moment to gaze up at sparkling indigo before there were lips on his and he was feeling an inescapable warmth plastered against him.

Burning passion filled his lungs as he shared the thief’s air, and his stomach sank just like how he’d fallen completely into the others arms. He couldn’t move his lips, he refused to open them on his own, but a pliant tongue moving with such pressure left him without much choice. Shinichi gasped into open air, but the thief just took the opportunity to sink his tongue even further down, deepening everything about the kiss that had just now stolen the detective’s breath away.

Shinichi was sure he couldn’t breathe, they hadn’t separated and he could feel his toes continue to curl with each long lick of his upper mouth and that spot just behind his teeth—! He had a talented tongue just as he had talented fingers, and it wasn’t long before a stray hand made its way into cradling through his hair, while another moved up and down his back, dipping down the large expanse of skin the dress left there.

He moaned, and both of them separated for air just as hesitantly as the other. KID backed them up towards the wall on heavy steps, and near collapsed on top of the detective. Shinichi was leaning fully against the wall, his legs were still numb from the longest dip of his life, and KID was leaning on him, forehead to forehead, both of them panting on each other.

After another long inhale, KID dove in again, this time just nibbling on the edge of Shinichi’s mouth, like he was still uncertain as to the detective’s reactions. Useless in this case, since he’d already been the one to deliver the sweetest kiss of Shinichi’s life—he could still taste him and he needed more. The detective forcefully grabbed the back of his head and joined there lips—much to the surprised little squeak KID let off—and Shinichi smirked into the kiss.

He felt his own confidence spike when he was with KID and maybe it was the recklessness speaking but he felt really good when he was with him too. And on him.

Shinichi dominated the kiss for a short time before KID moved outside his mouth and latched on to the side of his neck. The detective couldn’t stop the way his breath hitched and he was all too close to moaning long and unabashed because of what he was doing with his—

And oh god’s he could make a really good hickey with a tongue like that. Shinichi wasn’t sure what he was writing, but with the amount of detail he was, uh, feeling it had to be something big. He would have laughed had it not been feeling so _good_.

Suddenly footsteps could be heard from down the hall and it took KID little work to maneuver the detective lower on his knees so it looked like they were doing less than _appropriate_ things.

The hall was dim and they’d look like basic shadows amongst it all, but Shinichi knew better than anyone something like this would make other parties somewhat _uncomfortable_. That didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun with it though. (Plus he was still pretty mad about the thief’s many manipulative actions).

He latched a hand experimentally onto the thief’s rear and watched as eyes widened from above him giving a clear warning look. Shinichi’s grin only widened as he began to kneed the area and KID’s legs shook lightly against him.

The men were just rounding the corner and Kaito took that moment to shove Shinichi’s face into his thigh, most likely to get him to stop his activities, but Shinichi had other ideas.

The voices were a murmur, and a few even laughed, but the voice above him was breathy and barely constraining a whimper as he bit lightly through the dress pants on the now hardening asset of the ever so controlled thief. Both hands made their way towards the thief’s ass, but as soon as the footsteps had come, the sooner they’d gone and the thief quickly pushed him off.

His eyes were dangerous, if not playful, and Shinichi matched his expression with a smug one of his own. He was sweating now, both of them were, and Shinichi could only grin.

“So, do you have a Ferrari we could go to or...?”

“Motorcycle actually,” the thief mentioned. “Forgot the Alfa Romeo at home...” he mumbled, but Shinichi couldn’t stop looking at his debaunched form, panting and disheveled and— “Although I can say the view from the top of Beika hotel is quite lovely this time of night—”

 _Perfect_.

“How long?” he asked eagerly, scrambling to his feet and roughly kissing a few sections along KID’s neck.

“I can get us there in eight minutes.” Shinichi stopped and eyed him seriously.

“Do it in five and I’ll do more than just get on my knees.”

“Yes sir.” KID slipped an arm around his waist and started on pulling them towards the nearest elevator.

Shinichi scoffed as the doors opened and walked in to turn face to face with KID, eyebrows raised. “Oh so _now_ you’re calling me sir, whatever happened to Miss?” he asked, crossing his arms and leaning resolutely on the elevator rail. He outstretched his leg through the slit of his dress and watched predatory as KID’s gaze swept lower.

“Well I’m sure if you prefer—”

“I prefer Shinichi idiot,” the thief’s gaze snapped back to his eyes in a heartbeat, “and I think we’re a little past KID aren’t we?” He finished teasingly. KID hummed and extended an arm, bowing all the while.

“Kuroba Kaito, magician extraordinaire at your service,” he said, magicking a red rose and gracefully offering it to the detective. Once Shinichi took it, he too leaned on the wall beside him, almost casual as they watched the numbers change and the floors go down. “Are you sure we’re fine to leave after the mess we caused?”

Shinichi scoffed.

“I’d call it payback for a friend of mine,” the doors opened and the detective stepped out, Kaito following step silently to the clacking heels. “I’m sure he’ll have no trouble cleaning up a few angry yakuza’s...” Shinichi turned around smirking, “eventually.”

It didn’t take long for Kaito to match his grin, and even less for him to spot his motorcycle. “You’re pettier than I thought, _Shinichi_.”

The detective laughed, and graciously popped on the supplied helmet. “And what does that make you?” he asked, opening the screen on his helmet and watching as Kaito climbed on the vehicle in front of him.

“Only the most magnanimous for you, my dear rival,” Kaito said, revving the engine a few times before backing out of the parking spot and facing the large opening of the underground parking lot.

“You’re full of shit you know that, Kaito?”

The magician laughed and hit the gas.

“So I’ve been told~”

* * *

 

Hattori had just walked into work, pretty late for even him but every bit refreshed from such a long take down the day before, and he was hellbent on getting a cup of coffee for the morning.

Succeeding in his task he started for his office but promptly stopped when his hand let go of the door handle.

It was pink. Everything was pink. His desk. His chair. His pencils, pens, plants, carpet, walls... His office was pink and Hattori could have sworn he’d questioned what was in his coffee then and there because—!

“What the hell is this?!” he screamed, and looked at the officers peeking their heads up from desks, similarily curious.

Kudou was walking down the hallway, head down and most likely invested in a case but Hattori didn’t have time for pleasanteries, he needed answers.

“Kudou, what happened to my office?” he said, shaking the detective of the east and rightfully meeting his annoyed glare. He raised an eyebrow slowly and Hattori turned his shoulders in the direction of his office.

The detective put a hand to his chin, hummed, and then shrugged. Hattori’s jaw fell.

“Must have been Kaito,” the detective remarked, as if offices being turned pink was a new norm and Hattori briefly wanted to cry.

“What do ya know Kudou!” he frowned, and was well aware of everyone watching them in amusement. “And who the hell is this Kaito?”

Kudou stopped at that, turning away from his case files once again to sigh. “He’s the guy who’s not too happy with you for, uh, reasons.” Smiling happily to himself the detective continued down the hall and Hattori was about to blow a fuse.

“That tells me nothing!” he called after him, and all too unexpectantly the detective turned over his shoulder, inquisitive. “At least tell me where I can find him!”

Kudou smirked. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

And if Hattori went home the same colour pink as his office, he’d have a raging magician to thank for it.

(Funny both him and Kudou were wearing turtle necks in summer).

**Author's Note:**

> Wow that was a ride. Let me know what you guys think, I love any and all comments~~!! (On second thought maybe not the ones calling it trash, but what can you do~)


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